Ta Da, Asshole
by The Cocky Undead
Summary: After learning that the Mystery Woman has all the pieces she needs, Cameron leaves the Archive, trying to work out a way to still get Johnathan released from prison. He runs into some trouble, like usual, and calls Johnny for help (before he even thinks about calling an ambulance...it's just a little knife wound. It can't be that bad, right?) Spoilers for episode 11


**[Ta Da, Asshole]**

Cameron had never been afraid of the dark.

(Okay that wasn't the full truth.)

When he was young, dark and small, compact places were the two things he feared most, but Sebastian Black couldn't have that in one of his boys, and eventually, with the help of his father, Cameron got over it.

(That was another lie.)

So maybe Cameron hadn't fully gotten over it, but he had learned to hide it and pretend the fear away.

(Johnny knew, but they both pretended that he didn't)

.

.

When Mike came into the Archive and told them that the Lynx diamond was gone, Cameron felt his chest tighten, and not just in pain from where the bullet had hit him earlier that night. Suddenly, the Archive, the place that he called home, felt like it was too small to breathe in.

He blinked rapidly at the blank faces that were staring at him in the wake of the news, but he didn't say anything. He locked eyes with Kay, but after a quick beat, he jerked forward, brushing past Kay and Mike. He felt Dina's hands ghost over his shoulder, but he didn't stop at her touch.

He tugged a jacket off the hook near the door and was outside in a flash before the others could say anything to make him stay.

Cameron paused just outside the building, the streetlight making it easy to straighten out the jacket before shrugging it on over his sweatshirt. The wind chose that moment to pick up, reminding him that he wasn't wearing a shirt under his hooded sweatshirt.

He buttoned the coat up to his chin as he set aimlessly down the sidewalk, leaving the Archive behind him.

His steps froze when he abruptly realized that he had taken Johnathan's coat. It smelled like his brother, even after a year and a few months of absence. Sure, they pretended to be the same person, which meant wearing the same types of clothes, but some things were specifically Johnny's and this was one of those things.

Cameron shook his head and continued forward; he wasn't going back to the Archive just yet and it wasn't like Johnny would mind.

Anyway, he needed work through this funk that he had fallen into. The Team didn't need despondent Cameron, they needed him to lead them, dammit, and that's what he planned to do…but not just yet.

The cold night enveloped him, holding him with tight fingers. Cameron shuddered, digging his fists into Johnathan's jacket pockets. He winced as his aching chest burned at the movement. It probably had some sort of significance that it felt like his heart had been bruised by the bullet, but that wasn't something Cameron wanted to think about, so like with most things, he pushed it aside.

It was incredibly unhealthy, and Cameron knew it.

He swung to his right, going down a street that wasn't full of people; he didn't want to be around anyone, including strangers just yet.

He needed to think, get his thoughts sorted and then figure a way out of this mess, because "Nothing is Impossible."

Johnathan's voice came unbidden to his mind: _Some things are impossible, dumbass._

Leave it to Johnny to be the voice of doubt in Cameron's mind. It wasn't that his brother didn't believe in him or his abilities, but it had always been Johnathan's role to try and reason with Cameron when a trick seemed especially dangerous or life threatening.

Cameron felt Johnathan's absence every day since his brother had been arrested, but with the news of MW acquiring everything she needed, Cameron missed his twin even more.

"Hey," the voice broke into Cameron's thoughts abruptly.

Cameron raised his head, giving a glare to the man who stood in the middle of the abandoned sidewalk, bundled in a dark jacket.

"Hey," Cameron responded, slowing slightly when the man didn't move.

The man took his hand out of his pocket, holding something long and silver. A second later, with the flick of his wrist, the man was holding a switchblade in one hand.

"Wallet, phone."

Cameron stopped walking completely, head cocking to the side.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Wallet, phone. Now," the man said with a leer.

Cameron took both hands out of his pockets, raking them down his face while he shook his head.

"I'm having the shittest day, man."

"Well," the man said, "I'd say it just got worse."

Cameron heaved a sigh and started to pat his—Johnny's—jacket for his wallet when he realized that he hadn't taken anything with him in his haste to leave the Archive. Not even his phone.

Cameron looked back up to the waiting man.

"Would you believe that I didn't bring either of those two things with me?"

The man scoffed. "Yeah, right. Cough them up, buddy."

"No, really, man," Cameron said. "Like I might have mentioned, I'm having a really bad day, okay. I actually got shot like a few hours ago. Crazy, right?"

The man's eyes raked Cameron up and down. "You don't look like you just got shot."

"I was wearing a vest," Cameron said. "But let me tell you, it still hurts like hell, and I've taken a few beatings in my time. Okay, not beatings exactly, but like I've broken ribs and such when I fall doing a trick."

The man took a step forward, face sliding into a confused glare.

"I'm Cameron Black," Cameron said, rising both hands and doing a slight jazz hands for effect.

The man blinked and then he seemed to recognize Cameron.

"…Okay."

"How about this," Cameron said, "I do a trick for you and we both move on with our lives? I don't have my wallet or phone so I don't have anything else to offer."

The man's eyes narrowed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Cameron said, striding forward, despite Johnny's phantom calls in his head that he was being an idiot. "For this trick, I'll simply need—"

Cameron let out a little huff of breath, cutting off the rest of his words. He let his head drop, looking to where the other man had shoved his switchblade into Cameron's side.

It didn't really feel like anything, not when Cameron's whole body ached from earlier, but Cameron knew that it wouldn't last and the pain would hit him in a second.

And he was right.

With a sneer, the man pulled the knife out, and Cameron let out a hiss as the skin flared with pain at the movement.

He stumbled forward into the other man, who let out a disgusted cry and shoved him away.

Cameron fell backwards, hitting the sidewalk with a heavy thump. He slowly let his head drop back so he was staring up at the other man.

The man hung over him for a second, before stooping down to rummage through Cameron's pockets. He let out a disgruntled snort when he came up empty.

"Guess you were telling the truth," he said, before giving Cameron a parting kick to the side and leaving Cameron alone on the sidewalk.

Cameron curled in on himself from the kick, pressing one hand down to where the knife had gone through. He could feel warm blood leaking through the layers of clothes against his palm.

"Johnny is not going to be happy about his jacket," Cameron huffed with a groan.

.

.

When Cameron was fourteen, his father finally realized that Cameron's apparent inability to handle being alone in dark and small spaces wasn't just due to being a kid.

Holding his son by the bicep, Sebastian pulled his unwilling son towards the back of the Archive where a dumbwaiter had been constructed, for what they really didn't know, especially because it didn't move anymore. It was now essentially just a hole in the wall.

"It's no big deal, dad," Cameron said, voice smooth as silk in an attempt to convince his father. "I told you that I'm not afraid of anything. I'm not lying to you about that."

Sebastian wasn't listening, and in his defense, Cameron figured that his all too loud whimpers during a trick that involved a lock barrel had been a dead giveaway.

"Your brother isn't afraid of anything," Sebastian said after a beat, stopping at the wall where the open dumbwaiter was. He looked down at his son, and for a moment, Cameron thought he saw something flash past his dad's eyes but it was gone in a second. "You need to be more like Johnathan. Swallow whatever it is that you're afraid of, and get on with it." He paused. "Never show your fear to the world, do you understand?"

Cameron nodded, not looking away from his father's eyes. "I understand."

And for a moment, Cameron thought his father was going to leave it at that and wasn't going to use a practical demonstration for 'How to Get Over Being Afraid,' but then Sebastian's hand tightened around Cameron's arm and a second later, he heaved Cameron into the small space.

Cameron allowed himself to be folded into the small space, knowing that fighting against it would only make it worse, but also knowing that even if he wanted to fight back, he couldn't; his limbs had frozen the moment Sebastian had tugged him forward.

Sebastian hesitated a beat, staring at Cameron, before giving him a short nod and sliding the doors closed.

Cameron was plunged into darkness, and he immediately felt his chest seize up.

Outside he could hear a clicking sound as Sebastian locked the doors closed. He hadn't given Cameron any way to free himself from this, which meant that Cameron would only be released when Sebastian had thought that he had spent a significant amount of time working through his fear, which, even in his state of frozen fear, Cameron knew was bullshit.

"Dad?" Cameron said, managing to work the word through numb lips.

Silence stretched outside and then his father said, "Don't worry, Cameron, I'll be back."

And then Sebastian left, leaving Cameron motionless in the dumbwaiter.

Cameron closed his eyes, trying to pretend he was just sitting somewhere alone in the dark, but that didn't work for longer than the two minutes it took Cameron to remember exactly where he was.

Cameron's eyes flew open and he tried to fling his arms out, but the lack of space made it difficult and he hit the sides of the small space, reminding him just how small the dumbwaiter was.

It was at that moment that the panic set in.

.

.

Cameron had managed to shift his way to the abandoned building that was lined up against the sidewalk. He had maneuvered himself into a sitting position up against the brick wall of the building.

He tried to ignore the radiating pain that was throbbing from the knife wound. Believe it or not, he had been stabbed before—knife tricks do occasionally go wrong—but this felt worse than any of those times. He wasn't sure how bad it was, but he did know that if he didn't get help soon, then he was going to have a serious problem on his hands.

With a small flourish for the crowd that wasn't there, Cameron produced the mugger's phone with his blood free hand. Apparently, even being stabbed didn't stop Cameron from doing what he did best.

"Ta-Da, asshole," Cameron muttered, unlocking the phone and stabbing in a memorized string of numbers.

It took some time. Enough time, that Cameron's eyes were starting to droop, but eventually a familiar voice sounded through the speaker.

"Cameron?"

"Hey, Johnny," Cameron said, forcing his eyes back open.

"What's going on?" Johnathan's voice sounded strained, something even Cameron could hear through his haze of pain.

"We have a bit of a problem," Cameron said, pushing himself harder against the brick. The cold stones grinded into his back, pulling his focus into the present. "The Mystery Woman got her hands on Mike's badge somehow and stole the Lynx Diamond."

Cameron was met with silence on Johnny's end, and he wondered if maybe he should have saved that bit of bad news for later. Maybe it wasn't the best time to be troubling his brother.

"Okay," Johnny said, drawing out the word. He might have continued talking, but Cameron lost track of the conversation. Instead, he lifted his hand up from the knife wound, eyeing the dark blood that stained his hand. Looking down at the jacket, he could see that the blood had spread, soaking into the fabric.

"Hey, Johnny," Cameron said, not realizing that Johnny had been speaking and that he had just cut him off.

There was a huff of breath on the other end, annoyed if Cameron had to guess.

"Yeah?"

Cameron let his hand rest back against the wall, staring up at the dark sky that he could see through the buildings.

"Do you remember when I was afraid of the dark?"

There was a slight pause on Johnathan's end.

"Yes."

"Well, it was really the dark combined with small spaces," Cameron said. "Not a great thing to be scared of when you're in our line of work." He let out a laugh, too loud against his ears. "You know, Johnny, I never did get over it. Not even when Dad tried to help."

"That bastard nearly killed you," Johnathan snapped. The incident had always been a sore subject between them.

"Eh," Cameron said, "it could have been worse, but I'm not talking about dad. I'm talking about right now."

"What's going on, Cam, you're acting—"

"Here I am, just sitting in the dark, all by myself," Cameron said, cutting Johnathan off again. "I'm not sure I'll ever get over it, you know. It's just so…oppressive. It feels like a weight sometimes, Johnny." He paused for breath, but then abruptly forgot where he was going with his words.

"Cameron, what's going on?" Johnathan finally seemed to understand that there was something else happening.

"Oh, yeah," Cameron said, straightening a little. "That was the other thing I wanted to tell you, Johnny." He paused. "It appears I've been stabbed."

"You what?" Johnathan's voice was calm, much too calm, which meant that he was actually freaking out. Cameron knew this from years of experience when dealing with his brother.

"I was taking a walk," Cameron said. "We just got the news about the Lynx diamond and I wanted to try and figure out a solution to deal with MW and get you out, but I ran into a mugger, which, I know, is a rookie mistake. And, well, he stabbed with his knife."

"Did you call Kay? Did you call an ambulance?" Johnathan asked, voice still too calm.

Cameron shrugged, wincing when both his knife wound and bullet bruise protested the movement.

"No, Johnny, I didn't call them. I wanted to talk to you."

"Cameron," Johnathan said, voice rising. "Hang up with me and call a fucking ambulance or Kay. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me," Cameron said with a sniff. "I just wanted to talk to my brother."

That seemed to silence Johnathan, but not for long.

"Cam, listen very carefully, you need to hang up with me and call Kay. She will help you. Do you understand?"

"Johnny," Cameron said, shifting again. A groan rose up behind his teeth, but Cameron bit down on it, holding it back. He had something else to say and he wasn't going to let a little thing like pain get in the way of that. "I didn't mean to let you down. I'm still going to get you out, I promise. And if I can't figure out a legal way to do it, then we'll go with your plan, okay. It'll just be the two of us because we can't involve Dina and the others, but that's okay because it's always been the two of us."

"Cam—"

"I'm not done, Johnny," Cameron said. "I just wanted to say, that I'm sorry for all of this. You've always gotten me out of whatever stupid thing I got myself into, or when dad decided that I needed to buck up and deal with my claustrophobia in that stupid fucking dumbwaiter." He paused for breath. "And I'm sorry that I haven't done the same thing for you. You've never been afraid of anything, Johnny, and I—"

"Cam, you idiot, get off the phone!" Johnathan said, and then in a much quieter voice. "You're wrong, Cam, I am afraid. I'm afraid of losing _you_."

Cameron's throat closed up at Johnathan's words, but the moment was broken when Johnathan added, "Now hang up and call Kay, you dumbass."

.

.

Suddenly there was light streaming into the dumbwaiter, falling over Cameron's shoulders and hands.

He looked up, eyes swimming with tears. Johnathan was there, standing outside the enclosed space, blurry, but very much there.

Cameron took a shuddering breath, and then flung himself out of the dumbwaiter and straight into Johnathan's chest.

Johnathan caught him, like he always did, and held him tight to his chest. His arms were encircled around Cameron, and despite what he had just been through, Cameron felt like he was safe at last.

"I've got you," Johnathan said, voice rough.

"I'm sorry," Cameron whispered into Johnathan's shoulder. "I didn't…I couldn't…"

"Stop," Johnathan said, pulling back from Cameron so that they were facing each other. "It's not your fault. It's Dad's. He's the one that locked you in there."

Cameron looked over Johnathan's shoulder, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't like their father; he was always around, waiting and overseeing.

"Where's dad?" Cameron asked, eyes flicking back to his brother.

"Gone," Johnathan said shortly. "We had a disagreement and he left."

Cameron's eyes widened. "You've gotta put me back in there. Dad won't like that you've let me out." He started to pull out of his brother's grasp, but Johnathan didn't allow it, tightening his hold on Cameron.

"Fuck dad."

"Johnathan!"

"No, really, Cam, look what he did to you. Look what he reduced you to! All because of some stupid trick that requires you to be okay with small and dark spaces? He put your life in danger for the show and that is not okay."

Cameron didn't say anything for a beat, staring at his brother's familiar eyes.

"I can do the stupid tricks," Johnathan continued. "And I will. You won't have to do anything like this ever again. Okay, Cam?"

Cameron nodded, even though he knew Sebastian wouldn't allow this deal between them, but with Johnathan's help Cameron would put on a mask, just like Johnny did and he would push through the fear until he went away.

Cameron wasn't sure that he would fully succeed, but he intended on pretending until he did. He owed Johnny that much.

"Cameron?"

"Yeah, Johnny?"

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too."

.

.

It turned out, Cameron wasn't close to dying. He had just lost a bit too much blood, which hadn't been a good thing, but the knife wound itself was clean and shallow enough that all he ended up needing was stitches. A lot of stitches, but Cameron figured that was probably a fair trade for living.

Cameron was currently lying on the living room couch, practically back where he had started the night. He had the same icepack over his still sore chest and had one hand resting on the patch of white bandages stuck on his side.

Neither really hurt that much; the nurse at the hospital had given him a shot of something. He didn't think it was that strong, but it was enough to feel a little loopy and happy.

Standing around him was the Team, minus his brother. They were all staring at him with varying degrees of relief and anger.

Kay spoke first, "What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

Cameron squinted up at her.

"I just wanted to take a walk to clear my head. I know that MW has everything she needs now, but I believe that I can come up with something to take her down and save Johnny."

There. Cameron thought he had made his case pretty well, and he nodded to himself.

Gunter snorted, while Justin shook his head, from their corner of the room. Cameron shot them a glare; they were supposed to be on his side.

"Cameron," Kay said, pinning him with a serious look. "You can't help anyone if you're dead."

Cameron waved a hand. "I wasn't close to dying, Kay. I'm fine."

"Johnathan said you would say that," Kay said, mouth quirking. "He also said that you called him before you called me."

Cameron's eyes narrowed. "Traitor."

Kay shook her head, but appeared to be finished with her short lecture for now.

Cameron looked to Dina, who was standing next to Mike, both of them silent.

"Dina? You're unusually quiet," Cameron said. "Do you have anything to say to me too?"

She looked at the others and then took a few steps forward until she was crowding into Cameron's space. He gave her an annoyed huff and shifted his legs.

Her eyes narrowed and she jabbed a finger into his face. Cameron went cross-eyed trying to keep it in focus.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" she practically screamed at him. "For goodness sake, Cameron, first you fly in front of a bullet, and as if that wasn't enough you decided that you needed to get knifed as well!"

"I didn't—"

"I'm not finished!" Dina snapped, glaring at him.

Cameron held up his hands in surrender, settling deeper into the cushions and pressing the icepack harder into his chest.

"If you do that again, Cameron Theodore Black, I will personally knife you myself! Do you understand?"

Cameron swallowed and then nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Dina straightened. "Good." She turned on her heel and walked back to Mike's side.

The Team was trying to keep amused looks off their faces, but they weren't really succeeding. It was also clear that Dina's statement was shared with most of them.

For being high on painkillers and dealing with being shot and knifed, Cameron felt touched that they cared that much. Obviously, he knew they cared about him: they were family, but having it reinforced made Cameron feel all warm and fuzzy…but that just could have been the drugs.

Kay's hand suddenly appeared in front of Cameron's face, holding out her phone.

"I got Johnathan another phone call privilege." She glanced down at the phone. "You're on speaker, Johnathan."

There was a scratching noise from the speaker and then Johnathan said, "So you're alive, dumbass."

"Still kicking, Johnny," Cameron said happily.

"You're a serious moron, you know that," Johnathan continued. "You could have killed yourself and I wouldn't have even cried. You're too much of an idiot to warrant my tears."

"Okay," Kay cut in, a half-amused look on her face, but Cameron could also see that she wasn't sure about the tone of this conversation.

Cameron shook his head at her. "It's how he shows his love. Right, Johnny?"

"No, Cameron, I have more to say."

Johnathan's rant went on for a few more minutes, calling Cameron a dumbass and a moron a few more times within the small space of time.

Cameron leaned further back into the cushions, a small smile on his face, letting Johnathan's lecture soak into him. He generally didn't like being on the receiving end of Johnathan's wrath, but after going so long without hearing one (the prison guilt trips didn't really count; they were much too serious) it was almost nice verbally getting his ass handed to him by Johnathan.

When Johnathan paused for breath, Cameron cut in.

"Done?"

"Yes," Johnathan's disgruntled reply came a second later.

There was silence for a moment. The rest of the Team didn't want to break into the conversation between the two brothers, waiting quietly in the edge of Cameron's view.

Finally, Johnathan spoke again, this time much calmer, and in a voice meant only for his brother. "Cam?"

"Yeah, Johnny?"

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too."

.

.

A/N: I really wanted to write a fic for this fandom and I couldn't think of anything for the longest time, but then I actually tried writing something and this happened.  
I'm not sure what it's supposed to be, but I kinda like it. It got a little angstier than I meant, but oh well. I'm also not sure that I have Cameron or Johnathan's voice down, but I tried my best.

But hey! Happy Deception Day...even if it is the last one (maybe someone will pick it up! fingers crossed!)

(also I finished this up today and I really wanted to post it before the finale so there are prolly mistakes all over the place. I'll come back and edit it eventually)


End file.
